


One Track Mind, One Track Heart

by spockandawe



Series: Want It Fast, Want It Hard [3]
Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One)
Genre: Developing Relationship, Electricity, Emotions, Explicit Sexual Content, Hand Jobs, Light Bondage, M/M, Multiple Orgasms, Oral Sex, Past Abuse, Politics, Sex Toys, Vibrators, Wall Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-27
Updated: 2017-11-27
Packaged: 2019-02-07 13:04:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 17,913
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12841758
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spockandawe/pseuds/spockandawe
Summary: You don’t even know if Starscream remembers he told you to bring some toys when you come to visit. It was months ago, and there have been lots of messages (somany messages) that happened since then. But you definitely remember. Honestly, the hard part is figuring out howmanytoys to bring. You try to go by memory at first and pick out your favorites, but then when you try to actually hunt down the toys you’re thinking of, you keep finding things you forgot you even owned. Your original plan was just to find a few fun things to bring. Just a few! Honest! Just a couple things that you could store discreetly in your frame.Yeah, so you bring an entire box of interface toys.





	One Track Mind, One Track Heart

**Author's Note:**

> [Tumblr](http://spockandawe.tumblr.com/post/167934105081/one-track-mind-one-track-heart-spockandawe)

You don’t even know if Starscream remembers he told you to bring some toys when you come to visit. It was months ago, and there have been lots of messages ( _so_ many messages) that happened since then. But you definitely remember. Honestly, the hard part is figuring out how _many_ toys to bring. You try to go by memory at first and pick out your favorites, but then when you try to actually hunt down the toys you’re thinking of, you keep finding things you forgot you even owned. Your original plan was just to find a few fun things to bring. Just a few! Honest! Just a couple things that you could store discreetly in your frame.

Yeah, so you bring an entire box of interface toys.

You can’t even fit through the subspace hatch with them by yourself. You have to wriggle through first, then have Ultra Magnus toss the box after you. For a nanoklik or two you can’t actually remember whether or not you latched it shut and you have this hilarious, _awful_ image of it just… _opening_ , interface toys flying everywhere. On the upside, nobody will probably ask you to a government meeting ever again.

No, the box is fine, the latch is fine, everything is totally fine. And when you turn around, Starscream is right there, making his way over to the space bridge. You almost forget yourself and grin all big before you catch yourself and remember that you need to put on your serious business face. You’re definitely not planning to get fragged through Starscream’s berth all day, you’re going to do politics and negotiations and all sorts of boring stuff. It helps that you aren’t actually all that sure whether he meant it when he said he’d drag you to meetings. But when Starscream gets closer, you can see that his mouth is turned up at the corners, and you let yourself smile a little back at him.

You start out with him, but aww, you _have_ to stop to at least say hi to Wheeljack— Starscream crosses his arms and looks vaguely impatient while the two of you catch up real quick, but he doesn’t try to rush you along or anything. And when you set out for real, he and Wheeljack wave goodbye to each other like they’re for-real friends or something. The war’s been over for a while, but yeah. That’s still pretty weird.

And you do glance back at Wheeljack, because you _do_ want to talk about what it’s like living with a bunch of Decepticons— But then Starscream gives you a sideways look, and you feel your plating heat up. Later. Yeah, that. That can come later. You have other things to take care of right now.

At first, you’re kinda impatient to hit your wheels and get to where you’re going faster. Until Starscream gives your box a pointed look and asks if it will even fit in your cabin. _Right._ That. You tell him you figured he’d just fit it in his cockpit, and that gets you a flat, dry look that slowly slides into a smile, and he bumps his shoulder into yours as you keep walking together.

“What did you even bother bringing?” he asks.

“Oh, you know. Datapads. For those negotiations we’re totally going to be having.” _Wink._

And of course after that, Starscream talks politics. But it’s easier to handle when you’re here because you _want_ to be, and not because everybody on the planet was pressuring you to stop by. And you’re getting to see the city as you walk. You couldn’t stay here, you don’t think, at least not for long. But it’s good to see what Cybertron is becoming.

When Starscream finally pauses, you tell him, “So you know, I’ll probably agree to whatever, but I’m going to run it by Ultra Magnus first.”

“Probably for the best,” he says.

“I take offense to that.”

“No you don’t.” He gives you another sideways look and another faint smile. “We can lay out the groundwork, and then you can pass it to the bots who will care enough to go over what they’re actually committing you to.”

You pause. “And we’re still going to have time to—?”

“I have no idea what you could possibly mean. We’re only going to spend the day locked in my quarters, engaged in those intense, private… _negotiations_.”

And not a single mention of dragging you to any meetings. You are _so_ stoked.

By the time you actually reach the council building, you’re just about ready to sprint to Starscream’s quarters. So of course, he slows down even more, until the two of you are just strolling through the hallways. Is he doing this on purpose? Because if so, you’re totally going to punch him. With your mouth. You’re going to kiss him. Yeah, you’re just going to kiss him, it doesn’t really matter what he does at this point.

With all these other mechs walking around, you’re suddenly super conscious of the box in your arms. You mean. It’s _closed._ But it’s still just… sitting right there. In your arms. There’s no way anybody would guess that it’s packed full of interface toys, but… what if someone totally guessed that it was packed full of interface toys.

Just when you’re starting to really think about how hilariously terrible that would be, that’s when Starscream stops to say hello to the Carcerian delegates. You’re mostly busy trying not to fidget. Something something, Starscream canceled a meeting with them, they’re sure it must have been _very_ important, blah, blah.

You’ve spaced out. Your mind has jumped ahead to the berth, and you are paying as little attention as possible to the conversation.

But you sure notice when Starscream reaches over to open your box.

“Captain Rodimus and I need to review a number of sensitive documents, as you can see—”

He opens the latch and lifts the lid. Not far! Not too far at all, he realizes real quick what he’s actually looking at and freezes. Even from your angle, you can’t see much, but you definitely can see a bright pink false spike, sitting right near the lip of the box.

Starscream lets the lid close.

“So we’ll be occupied for quite some time,” he smoothly continues. “I’m sure you understand.”

When you manage to nerve yourself into looking over at him, you can’t see anything on his face. He looks bored more than anything else as he wraps up the conversation. After the Carcerian delegates finally, _finally_ go on their way, he doesn’t say anything to you. You slink along behind him as he leads the way to his quarters.

You pass through his office first, and you hesitate for a nanoklik, wondering if it’s going to be like last time—? But Starscream continues on to the door on the other side of the room, keying in a code and beckoning you through.

The door isn’t quite closed yet when you see his shoulders beginning to shake. At first you think he’s angry, and. Yeah, you kind of deserve that— But then he turns to face you, and your processor is slow to catch up, because Starscream is _laughing_.

He takes the box from you and sets it on a table. He’s still laughing as he steps up to you and smiles as he puts his arms around your neck. Your hands settle on his waist.

“I don’t know what I expected,” he says. “I really don’t.”

Defensively, you say, “You _did_ tell me to bring toys.”

“And you told _me_ those were datapads.”

“You expected me to bring _datapads?_ ”

“Exactly,” he says. And then he’s kissing you.

Yeah, wow, you are definitely fine with this development. The two of you might message each other, you might be messaging each other pretty often now, but there’s still nothing like having him _actually_ here with you, having his arms around your neck, his frame pressed against you and his mouth on yours. It feels like all the time you’ve spent talking to each other over comms has you already spun up, you want Starscream, you don’t even care about making it to the berth anymore, he could just frag you right in the middle of the floor and you wouldn’t tell him no—

Slowly, reluctantly, you break the kiss. Starscream lets you go, but he stays where he is, his arms still draped around your neck. He’s still so _close_ and you can’t look away from his lips— “Surveillance,” you manage. “You. Last time, you were worried about. Spies.”

He smiles, and doesn’t make a single move to back away. “I let them have free run of my office, provided they leave my quarters alone. Any meetings I can’t afford to have monitored are held in here.”

You want to believe it, you definitely, definitely do, but you feel like you ought to at least try to be a little responsible about this. Being responsible apparently just means asking, “You’re sure?”

“Absolutely.” He presses even closer against you, his chest sliding against yours. He stops just short of kissing you and says, “Trust me, I know when I’m being spied on. I’ve been running circles around Autobot intelligence for millions of years.”

You try to hold out, but all you can say is, “If. If you’re positive—?”

He does kiss you then, just one slow brush of his lips. “I suppose if I’m wrong, we’ll find out when they release the video of you being fragged senseless on my berth. But I can hardly call that a _bad_ outcome, not when it means the whole planet will get to see how good you look when you overload.”

Oh. _Ohhh._ That’s— When Starscream finally closes in and starts kissing you for real, your only complaint is that he doesn’t _already_ have you flat on your back, fragging your brains out. Kind of. Because. Because you’re _into_ this, you really are. You’re into what’s happening, and you’re into that suggestion, the idea of the _whole planet_ watching you overload has your interface array aching with how hot that would be. But. Also that image. Just—

You pull away from the kiss. And don’t manage to articulate anything. Starscream lets you pull away, although you can feel the way he goes all still. But he’s still right there, still with his arms around your neck. And the silence has already gotten awkwardly long. Finally, you manage, “If you’re _positive—?”_

He looks at you for a long moment, then sighs. “Every few days, I make sure something slip out loud in here, some manufactured secret that would have a dramatic effect if it was true and the information was leaked. There hasn’t been a single whisper yet. With similar but erratic frequency, I bring crews through to sweep my quarters for anything suspicious. If I notice somebody _has_ planted a device, I just have them come through sooner than originally planned. I haven’t missed anything on my own, but nobody trying to spy on me would know that. You do have Ravage on your ship, don’t you? Ask _him_ how easy it is to watch me, but only do it if you’re prepared to listen to him complain for quite some time.”

That… helps. That helps a lot, actually. You can feel yourself already relaxing, and you slide an arm around Starscream’s waist, holding him up right up against you. You’re leaning in to kiss him, but then you have the _best_ thought— “Sometime you should try making up silly interface secrets to test that.”

He laughs. “I’ll have to do that. ‘During the war, Megatron commissioned at least five false spikes designed to resemble Optimus Prime’s.’”

“ _Did he??_ ”

Starscream smirks. “Ask him yourself.”

You’re kind of making a mess of the kiss because you can’t stop laughing. But it’s all totally worth it. It’s like yes, last time _did_ happen, all those chats since then _did_ happen, and you’re not the only one who’s been wanting this, not if the way Starscream is acting is any kind of indicator. Even once you manage to stop laughing, you still can’t stop smiling. You let Starscream push forward into you until you’re backed right up against a wall with him right up against your chest, and then you can just let him pin you there and _kiss you._

The chats have been great and all, you love the chats, but it’s definitely not the same as being here in person. Everything feels so much extra _real_ after all those conversations over comms, when everything isn’t just down to words anymore, when you can actually _feel_ Starscream pressed up against you. His hands are all over your chassis, not with much direction or purpose, and his thigh presses between your legs. You grind shamelessly down against him, and feel him smile as he catches your thigh between his legs and does the same.

You don’t hold back, because why would you? When your panel pings you, you let it open. Your knees wobble at the feeling of Starscream’s plating right against your valve, right against your _node._ You can’t see, but you feel him reach down blindly and get a hand on your spike. Oh, that’s—That’s nice, that’s _very_ nice. You can finish like this. Sounds good to you, Starscream pinning you to the wall, pressed right up close against you, you can definitely finish this way.

Well, except for how Starscream pulls back, taking your hands to tug you upright, so you’re supporting your own weight again. Not gonna lie, you’re kind of confused. Until he says, “Turn around. If you’re waiting for me to pick you up, you’re going to be left waiting for a very long time.”

Oh. _Oh._ But even while you’re turning around and setting your hands against the wall, you can’t resist saying. “You picking me up is no good, but I have to be fine with you sitting in my lap?”

He presses up against your back, his frame hot against yours, his hands going from your waist to your hips, then down towards your array. “Yes,” he says, “Those are perfectly comparable situations. That’s how physics works. I’m so glad you’ve cleared that up for me.”

You’re getting ready to say something about how _you’re_ going to pick _him_ up and frag him against the wall, just out of pure spite, but then his hands are on your spike and you can feel his spike against your valve, and suddenly you have much more important things to focus on.

He doesn’t take it slow, which is good, because you think you might have _died._ No, as soon as he’s there, he pushes into you, nice and fast, until his hips are right against your aft and you can feel the heat from his vents washing over you. Once he’s in you, he pauses for a moment, just long enough for you to feel the _stretch,_ just long enough for _him_ to lean forward and bite your collar faring—you make an embarrassing noise—and then he starts to move.

It’s fast and it’s _hard._ It’s fantastic, once he gets going, you never really get a chance to get your bearings. Your arms buckle after a few nanokliks, so it’s just your face pressed against the wall, Starscream draped over your back, and his spike _filling_ you. One of his hands comes up to your stomach to pull you up tighter him, but his other hand never leaves your spike.

You don’t last long. That was— never going to happen. Not with how tight you’ve been wound looking forward to this visit, or all the _tension_ you’ve been feeling ever since he met you at the space bridge. And besides. The two of you still have an entire day to work with. So you don’t hold back. You let the overload happen, your face still pushed up against the wall and Starscream driving into you.

While it happens, you can hear Starscream laugh softly from behind you. While the last aftershocks are still rocking you, he moves his hands up from your frame and uses them to pin _your_ hands to the wall. That’s nice, that’s definitely a nice touch. You’re still out of it enough that it’s hard to remember how your frame works, but you try to get his fingers tangled with yours, at least just a little. And you arch up as much as you can, pressing your aft back against him.

He doesn’t make it much longer than you. When he overloads, his hands never leave yours, but he slumps forward against you, his head against the back of your shoulder, ventilating hard. You let him be and just enjoy the feeling of him leaving your valve as his spike depressurizes, the way he’s got you trapped against the wall, the weight of his frame as you support him, all of it. It barely takes the edge off. But you and Starscream have _all day._

Once Starscream recovers, he’s all business. Mostly. You think you’re learning to read his face better than you ever cared about doing before. He watches you while you get yourself back upright, and he’s still got a faint smile on his face. He’s doing the thing where he waits with his arms all crossed, acting like he’s impatient and you’re holding him up— But you don’t think that’s right at all, not with the way that smile never changes. He waits long enough for you to get back to your own feet, and then he turns and beckons you forward as he moves across the apartment.

He stops to grab the box of toys on the way, and you perk up. More? Already? You aren’t going to argue. But he does pick up a pile of actual datapads as he goes. You’d say you try not to be too disappointed, but really, you aren’t. You still aren’t looking forward to doing paperwork or anything, but just look at the day you’re going to have together.

His quarters aren’t actually that large, and he takes you and the toys (and the datapads) over to a nice little sitting area. He gets you situated on the couch, right in front of a low table, and hands you the datapads. Then he sits down next to you and sets _himself_ up with the box of toys.

“ _Hey,”_ you protest.

But he just flashes you another amused smile. “Don’t you have some reading to do? I’m only keeping myself… occupied.”

You’re not actually upset, not after a start to your day like _that,_ but you still make a point of sighing as you start to shuffle through the stack of datapads.

Starscream doesn’t look up from the box, but he leans over to nudge you, shoulder to shoulder and knee to knee. “You’re already familiar with what’s in here, and I can assure you that I’m intimately familiar with what’s in those documents. This makes the most effective use of our time.”

That’s fair. You know that’s fair. You still can’t help but notice that he’s done a more effective job at cornering you into doing real work than Mags ever managed, but hey. And you snicker. “ _Intimately_ familiar.”

He leans into you again, nudging you a little harder this time, but you can feel the way he laughs so quiet it doesn’t quite become a real sound.

So you open the first datapad and almost immediately have things to argue about. “Establishing trade agreements? Hey, no, we’ll made side trips to help people out with little things, but we try _not_ to get held up, this is the opposite of what we’re doing—”

“And that’s why I’m not trying to get you to take care of all the details, only informing any settlements or ships you encounter that a central Cybertronian government has been reestablished and would like to make contact, laying out the broad strokes.

“We do have some people who could probably negotiate,” you allow. “Mags might like it. Seems like the kind of nitpicking that gives him life. Who else. _Oh,_ you know what, I bet Megs—”

You cut yourself off and shoot Starscream a guilty look, but he’s smiling. “Oh yes, I’m sure he would. Which is a large part of why we’ll be _sure_ to keep that kind of decision-making power located firmly on Cybertron.” He leans into you to look down at the datapad, reaching over and scrolling down through the text. “I’m sure Ultra Magnus will have a knack for staying within the parameters of our agreement, and there’s no love lost between us, but I’m sure it won’t be easy for any parties you contact to tempt him to act beyond the bounds of his authority. And then the specifics of the terms can be negotiated by people personally in touch with the needs of the planet, as well as putting them in contact with the colonial representatives.”

You’re not one hundred percent sure you followed all that logic, and you’re going to want to check in with Mags before you give Starscream a definite yes, but a job with concrete goals, and also rules and limits and boundaries? Sounds like exactly the kind of thing to make his day, to be honest.

Also… you just go ahead and slip an arm around Starscream’s waist. You know, just while he’s leaned into you anyways. Also his wing is halfway around your back, so he started it. He notices you doing it, he doesn’t look up at all, but you can feel the way he tenses for a nanoklik and relaxes again. And he doesn’t budge from where he is. You like this. A _lot._ You could really get used to this. You even manage to come up with a couple of good questions about the document he’s having you read through, just so, you know, so he’s got a convenient excuse to stay leaned into you. Look at you, getting your actual work done. And _enjoying_ it.

Even once you run out of questions and have to move on to the next document, Starscream doesn’t budge. He snags the box of toys and drags it over so he can reach from where he is, but he doesn’t act like he wants to move or anything. You won’t lie, you’re _pretty_ okay with this situation.

Or, well— It’s cozy. It’s very cozy. Very comfy. You could stay like this for a _while._ And you’ve managed to find a situation where you’re actually willing to do your paperwork, which is crazy enough as it is. But just— Just, it’s a _little bit distracting_ when you’re trying to read these documents and Starscream picks up a giant false spike and makes a quiet little interested noise as he turns it over in his hands.

You try to focus on the datapad you’re holding. You really do! You’re doing your best to read and focus and be _patient,_ but Starscream will take out a new toy to examine and whoops suddenly you’re at the end of a page and have no idea what you just finished reading. And you’re almost sure Starscream knows what he’s doing to you too. You can’t see much of his face from this angle, but the little bit you can see looks _incredibly_ smug.

Anyways, at some point you decide you’re done just sitting here and letting him mess with you. You’re going to participate, at least a little. So instead of just having your arm around his waist, you drop your hand down so you can trace over his hip joint, and run your fingers along the gap in his plating.

You don’t push it too fast or anything. You’re being patient (for you). So you can afford to wait a little while. And you’re still going to at least reach the end of this document, even if you remember less than half of what you’ve read. It still totally counts. Starscream is still working his way through the box and isn’t acknowledging that you’re doing anything at all, but he shifts a tiny bit, just enough to open his hip wide enough that you can slip your fingers inside.

Oh _yes._ You’re barely paying attention to the words in front of you right now, because all you can think about is that first time you ever messaged Starscream, when you were like ‘I’m bored’ and he got you so worked up you nearly embarrassed yourself in the middle of a meeting. You talked about getting your hands on his wires then, and it was awesome just talking about it, but those were only words. Now you’re _feeling_ his wires for the first time, you’ve got your fingers inside his plating, feeling little movement he makes, knowing he’s letting you get your hands on vulnerable, delicate components. It’s… intimate.

That thought probably shouldn’t feel as hot as it does. Whatever, you’re rolling with it. You’re working blind, but that just makes it even more fun to map out the inside of Starscream’s frame. You’ve got to move carefully and keep your touch delicate, but it makes it so much more rewarding when you stroke a wire and Starscream leans into you and sighs. He’s still trying to act like nothing is happening, but you’re watching his hands from the corner of your optic, you can see him forgetting that he’s looking over a set of cuffs, and just holding them loosely as you touch him, before he remembers himself.

You can feel him tensing up against you too, every time you touch something sensitive or work your fingers a little deeper. Outwardly, he still isn’t showing much of anything, but his body’s so _expressive,_ once you get this close. Not just where you’re touching him inside his hip, it’s little things like the way his wing flicks and resettles in tiny little motions, the little stutters in his ventilations, or the way his fans spin up just the tiniest bit faster. Small enough things that you might have missed them if he hadn’t been pressed up right against you.

When you manage to get your fingers past some wires and run them along a thin, metal strut, Starscream drops one hand to your leg, and you can feel his fingers flex against your plating. You— kind of wonder if you could get him off this way, if you tried hard enough. And now that you’ve thought of that, you _really_ want to see if you could make it happen, Him overloading right there, practically in your lap, with just your fingers on his wires driving him to that point.

It’s harder to read how close someone is without their array giving you clues, but you think you can do it. You can hear how loud his fans are running now, and feel the little reactions every time you touch something sensitive. He straightens and leans back into your arm just enough for you to see that his optics are dimmed and his lips are pressed tight together. He’s strung taut, and you can practically feel him vibrating form the tension every place his frame presses against yours. And by now, you’ve got a pretty good idea of how his hip is put together. You find what you think is his main sensory wire—and you’re pretty sure you got it right from the way his grip on your leg tightens—and run your fingers up and down it, again and again, not letting up not letting them move, and you can just imagine how the sensation is intensifying and driving him closer and closer to overload. Just a little more—

“ _Stop,”_ says Starscream, and his voice sounds— strangled. _Wrong._

You need— You need to take your hand out of his hip. But it feels like your body is too slow to react, cycles too slow, _unforgivably_ slow. But Starscream’s free hand has already caught your wrist, and all you can do is freeze where you are. Your fingers are still inside his hip joint, but you’re trying to hold as still as you possibly can, touch as little as you can manage. His other hand is still on your thigh, and you realize, ages too late, that his grip is painfully tight.

“I’m sorry,” you say, “I can— Let me, I’ll just—” You’ll back off as soon as he lets you, but he’s still got his hand locked tight around your arm. You could probably pull away, but that seems like. Perhaps not the best idea right now.

Starscream’s optics are still off, and his mouth is pressed tight closed again. He just shakes his head once, and doesn’t let go of your arm. You try to relax as much as you can while also not moving at all. It’s really almost no time at all, before he pulls your hand away from his hip. You do your best to keep your fingers loose and relaxed, and to touch as little as you can on your way out.

Your thoughts are mostly running in circles of wondering what you did _wrong._ You hadn’t— This wasn’t anything too extreme. But that tone in Starscream’s voice, that was. You don’t know, but it wasn’t right. It wasn’t— He shouldn’t sound like that.

But one your hand is out of his frame, he runs one slow vent cycle, and then turns to you, his optics coming online again. He’s not really smiling the way he was before, but it’s still an improvement. And when he makes optic contact with you, he relaxes just a small bit further.

“Apologies,” he says. “It seems that this won’t be an option for us today.”

You can’t help wincing a bit at the unmistakeable tone of anger in his voice. “Sorry. Was it—?”

But he’s already waving you off. “Nothing _you_ did.” The bitterness bleeds over into his expression, just a little. “It seems I have enough unpleasant and… _painful_ memories associated with that activity now that I can’t enjoy it simply for the sake of pleasure.

It takes you a minute. You’re just not used to thinking of things this way. But when you finally connect the dots, you feel sick. You just had Starscream right up against you, reacting as you played with his wires. It’s too easy to imagine Megatron with his fingers in Starscream’s hips instead. And your thoughts veer away from thinking through exactly what he could have done to make this so unpleasant and painful that it would ruin this forever. Though you can’t help remembering how you’d just been thinking about how delicate those components were, and how many sensor wires there are in that joint, and how careful you’d been touching them.

It’s hard to reconcile with the picture of Megatron wandering around the Lost Light, being hilariously out of place, being a bad _joke_ on the ship, and not technically doing any actual harm. But it fits horribly well with those millions of years of ugly history that you and every bot alive know that Megatron has behind him. It’s easy to forget, with the way he acts now.

You don’t know what Starscream reads on your face, but after a moment, he smiles. A faint smile, still with plenty of bitterness in it, but a little bit of a smile. “Come now,” he says. “Like I said. Nothing that _you’ve_ done wrong.”

“I didn’t want to...” Your voice trails off. You’re not sure how to end that sentence.

Starscream flicks his fingers dismissively and crosses one leg over the other. “Of course. If I thought there was any chance you _did_ ‘want to,’ you’d be getting forcibly escorted back to the space bridge at this very moment.”

Okay. Yes. Right. You need to get a handle on yourself. This kind of thing _happens,_ even without history like that to drive it. You know that. “Sorry, it was just after the chats— Is wireplay no good? In general? I can stay away from that if it’s best.”

Starscream does drop his optics from yours then. You can see him purse his lips for a moment before he speaks. “I don’t know,” he finally says. “I didn’t know there would be a problem until it was already happening.”

“But if it’s bad memories with, with—”

“Megatron?” He shoots you an amused look. “If I was going to stay away from every activity with bad memories of _him,_ we’d have very little left to do together at all.”

You wince again, but he’s turning into you more fully now, swinging his legs up over your lap and grabbing your helm to pull you down towards him. He kisses you hard and deep before letting go, and when you break the kiss, he murmurs, “Try again. Remind me how to enjoy this.”

“Not your hips,” you say, and you aren’t quite sure whether it’s a question or a statement.

He pulls you down for one more quick kiss. “Not my hips. Your choice.”

Well he’s— Halfway into your lap by now. And doesn’t seem like he’s planning to move. You can’t get at half of his joints like this, and the way he’s curled up against you makes the rest of them pretty difficult to work with as well. And you’re pretty sure he knows that, from the way his mouth curls into a smile as he watches you hesitate.

Fine, _fine._ You reach up to take one of his hands from your helm and bring it down to hold between you. Just one more check, just to be certain— “Yes?”

“Yes,” he agrees. Though you get the feeling he’s trying not to laugh at something, and you’re not sure if the joke’s on you or not.

Whatever, you’ll just totally distract him from what he’s thinking about, and then it won’t matter at all. You use one of your hands to flex his backwards, opening up his wrist joint. There isn’t as much space as in a bot’s hips, of course. But on the upside, you can see what you’re doing. _And_ you’re close enough that you can get your mouth on him.

But you take your time and try to be patient. For a little while, at least. To start with, you stick to using your fingers on him. Just little touches in that narrow space in his wrist joint, figuring out which wires get the biggest reaction, and how he’s reacting to you touching him in general. Wrists are less… sensitive than hips, and it’s harder to get in there, so you’d believe he has fewer bad memories to poison things, and that maybe he’ll be fine with this. But you’re determined not to miss the signals again, or to, to _misread_ the signals and think it means he’s _enjoying_ what you’re doing.

And you’re just getting angry at yourself now. Not the time, you can worry about that later. Besides, you can see his face now, you can see that he’s watching your hands, and you can see that he’s faintly smiling, and it doesn’t have any of the bitterness of before. When you brush along a sensory wire, you can feel him tense, but you think— You’re almost sure that this is just good tension, not like last time. His expression doesn’t flicker and his smile doesn’t fade. When he puts his free arm around your back and leans into your shoulder, you decide you can probably afford to be _pretty_ sure this means he’s enjoying himself.

So, you take your hand out of his wrist and replace it with your mouth. He does tense against you again, but as your glossa touches his wires, he makes a quiet, shocked, _pleased_ sound, and his arm tightens around your back. You can’t watch his face like this, but you can feel him resting his head against your shoulder, and you can feel the way his vents are blowing hot air against you.

You can’t see his wires anymore either, but there’s only so many wires in a wrist, only so many struts, and it’s easy to mark out which of them get you the strongest reactions. This wire makes him shiver, that one wins you a soft gasp, and when you lick the underside of the plating, he turns his head into your neck.

His voice is quiet, but you can practically hear the smirk in his voice when he says, “Don’t you dare stop now.”

Oh Primus, yes. You get your glossa into him as deep as you can, trying to find every single even slightly sensitive component. You might not have much space to work with, but you are going to make the absolute most of what you’ve got. You lace your fingers with his and bend his hand back, just a little more, opening his wrist up as much as you can.

And you’re doing a pretty good job too. Not to brag, but. You’re doing pretty fantastic. You find one wire where he makes a soft little noise against your neck every time your glossa traces along it, and his fingers are almost painfully tight where they’re tangled around yours. You can feel every one of the tiny little shivers running through his frame, and his frame is running hot enough that you can feel your fans kick on to compensate for it. He starts mouthing absently at your neck cables, and when you make a muffled, indistinct noise against his wrist, you can hear him moan.

You’ve been planning to take him all the way to overload from the start, but it’s a surprise when it actually hits. Your only warning is when he bites down on your neck, and then it’s happening, him shuddering against you, curling his body into yours, his arm held as still as he can manage while the overload rocks through him, his fingers shaking where they hold yours. Your mouth is pressed up to his plating, and you work your glossa against his wires, out the overload as long as you can manage until the tension all drains from him in a rush, and he’s not so much curled against you as he is draped over your frame.

Not going to lie, you’re pretty pleased with yourself. And almost positive Starscream is pleased with it too. But it would be awesome if you could like, see his face, or just. Hear that from him. Just to be sure, since you managed to screw things up the first time around. But his face is still pressed up against your neck and he’s taking up pretty much your whole lap, and you’re not sure how to just get a look without dumping him out of your lap entirely. Which you definitely don’t want to do. Just to be clear.

So you try, “Starscream?”

“Mm?”

That’s all you get for a moment, but then he shifts in place and laughs. He pulls his hand out of your grasp to bring it up and pat your cheek. Affectionately? Maybe? You’re still debating yourself when he finally pulls away from you and sits up on his own. On the one hand, no, come back. On the other, you can see his face now, and there’s no longer any question about whether he’s pleased or not. There’s something about the way he’s smiling and _looking_ at you that sends a burst of heat straight to your array. You were going to ask him something, you swear, but it’s impossible to remember what you wanted to say when all your attention is on the way Starscream is watching you.

He shifts back a little further and stretches, long and lazy, and just. _Primus._ You don’t know if you want to look at his face, or look at all of the rest of him.

But before you can make a decision, he turns away from you, lifting a pede and shoving the table with your box and the datapads back away from the couch. Before you can follow what’s happening, he’s already sliding from the couch and going to his knees, and by the time your processor catches up, he’s kneeling in front of you with one hand on each of your legs. Oh. _Oh._ Ohh, yes _please,_ you are definitely a fan of these new developments.

Though, to be sure, “You don’t have to—”

“Oh, I’m aware.” His smile gets a little wider, and he’s still definitely smug and pleased with himself, but it’s just the slightest bit predatory and you won’t lie, you’d probably agree to literally anything he suggested right now. He nudges your legs apart and you don’t resist at all. He runs his fingers slowly along your plating, up your thighs, and you’re frozen where you are, and all you can do is watch him. After a long, quiet moment, he says, “I’m not obligated to do anything at all. But I’m still going to hear what noises you make when you overload with my mouth on your array.”

You shudder, and a strangled little noise slips out of you before you can help yourself. You kind of think that’s exactly what he wanted to do to you, but you can’t bring yourself to mind. Especially when his hands are moving towards your panel, so slowly, slow enough that you’re practically vibrating with anticipation. He presses closer towards you, so your legs have to spread even further to make room for his frame, and you shiver again at how it leaves you wide open and on display for him. His hands stop right before they reach your array, and he kneels there, just looking at you, and your spike _aches_ with how badly it needs to pressurize.

After a moment, you burst out, “Starscream—”

He laughs once and moves his hands that last little bit further, tracing out the edges of your panel. “Go on, then.”

You didn’t think you were waiting for permission, but _Primus_ does it feel good to just do what he tells you. You bite back another embarrassing noise as your panel slides open and you feel his hands brush against your array. For a moment you’re almost expecting him to hold your spike back like he did that first time and make you desperate, but he lets your spike extend without blocking it and simply lets it pressurize into his hand.

It feels— It feels _good._ Which is incredibly inadequate, but— You thought the quick frag against the wall had taken the edge off. You were wrong. You hadn’t realized you were this spun up until he had his hands on you, but this just makes you painfully aware of how desperate you are for. Something. Him. _Anything._ You want him to ride you, you want him in you, you want him to reach behind you and grab a handful of toys and use them all on you at once, you just need him to frag you so badly it hurts. He has one hand wrapped loosely around your spike and one hand resting against your valve, and you can’t tell if it’s better than nothing, or whether it’s just enough to make this into torture.

But you’ve got barely any time at all to consider that before Starscream leans down and takes your spike into his mouth. Just a little, just the very tip of your spike, but it’s enough for you to feel the heat and his glossa moves against you— You don’t quite manage to hold back another noise this time.

Words, you can do words, you swear. “Starscream—“

He makes a questioning noise with his mouth still on your spike, and frag, _frag_ it feels so _good—_ You completely lose track of what you were trying to say. He drops his head down a little further and takes in a bit more of your spike— and does it again. Your head snaps back and you can do is curse, not even quite sure what you’re actually saying. Your hands go to Starscream’s helm, and you’re, you’re not going to force his head down, but this isn’t quite enough and all you want is a little _more._

And he stops, and pulls back off your spike and takes his hands off your array. You’re trying really, really hard to sort out your words, but you get as far as, “Wait, don’t—” before he locks optics with you and licks his lips and you completely lose your train of thought. Again.

Fortunately, he doesn’t keep you waiting long. He just plucks your hands off his head and places one on each of his wings. All he says is, “Make yourself useful.”

Before you even have a chance to respond, his mouth is back on your spike again, sliding down even further than before, so that his glossa is pressed up against you and you feel your spike nudging at the back of his throat. You’re laughing, you realize. Not that anything’s _funny,_ but just— Because you’re enjoying yourself. Enjoying _this._ Starscream hums against your spike, and your vocalizer glitches out for a moment, but you’re still laughing just for— for happiness, you guess.

You think he gets that. He’s hard to read, and he enjoys making it even harder, but it feels like you’re on a similar wavelength. Just from how he moves against you and the way he presses into your frame as you play with his wings. He manages to angle himself so he can take you even deeper into his mouth and something about that angle, the way his throat feels as he swallows around you— Your hands clench on his wings, and you realize that wait, _frag,_ those are sensitive, you need to—

But the moment you loosen your grip, Starscream is already pushing forward, shoving his wings demandingly up into your hands. When you do what he wants and get your hands back on him, he makes a pleased noise that you can feel vibrating through your spike, and that’s it, that’s the limit of your self-control, you tip into an overload and Starscream stays right where he is, swallowing and _swallowing_ around you.

At some point, you lose your grip on his wings, because when the overload finally fades, you’re curled forward over Starscream with your helm almost resting against his and your arms wrapped loosely around his shoulders. As your spike depressurizes, he lifts his head up and kisses you. You can taste yourself in his mouth, and it makes you shiver. But then all you get is the one kiss, and Starscream bends down to your array again.

You’re still not quite on top of things, still recovering, and it takes you a moment to catch up. By then, Starscream already has his mouth on your valve. He presses one quick kiss to your node, and then fastens his mouth over it and sucks. You jump and make a loud, shocked noise, and your legs try to slam shut, but he holds them open. And then he spreads your valve open with one hand and slides two fingers into you.

Your array is still oversensitive, your whole frame is oversensitive, and it feels like so _much_ that it’s almost pain. But Starscream doesn’t let up and it’s never quite so much that you actually tell him to stop. You’re practically writhing in place, but he has your legs pinned down and his mouth doesn’t move from your node even for a moment. When he adds a third finger to your valve, the stretch is enough to tip you over the edge, and you overload again, cursing incoherently and clutching at Starscream’s helm to hold him against you.

After that overload— Yeah, wow. Okay. You’re feeling pretty shaky. That was a bit— a lot. It was a bit a lot. Those are words that go together. Primus, you can barely focus your optics, and you’re pretty sure your hands are shaking. Or most of you is shaking? Probably that’s more accurate. You can feel Starscream brace on your legs to push himself back up to his feet, and you can feel it when he sits down on the couch beside you again.

You kind of just… tip over into him. You’re kind of aiming for his shoulder, but you don’t quite land on target and instead sort of bounce off his chest and land on his lap. Oh no, this is terrible. What will you do.

And Starscream doesn’t seem to mind. He pats your face twice, and you think he might be laughing, but he also rearranges you so that your spoiler isn’t digging into the seat and his wing isn’t banging against your shoulder every time he moves. And then he settles down with one arm across your chest. He picks up— Something? You don’t know what. Your optics are off. You’re comfy. You’re not looking. It’s probably work, honestly and as long as you don’t know it’s happening, nobody can make you do it.

Okay, you’re not quite _that_ bad. You take a few nanokliks to chill and regroup. Because that was intense. And because you enjoy being like… this. You enjoy spending time this way. With… Starscream? You guess? Whoa, yeah, taking a detour around that thought train. This has been a nice visit. A nice, sexy visit. And if you want this to happen again, you have to be productive enough that you can justify another visit back to Cybertron.

And then you push yourself upright again, groaning in a way that is only a _little_ exaggerated, honest, and say, “What next?”

Starscream doesn’t miss a beat or even look at you, just hands off a new datapad to you, smooth as anything. Or, okay, he’s _acting_ smooth, but he’s not-looking at you in a way that means he’s totally paying close attention, and you can still see a bit of a smile on his face. Not that you have to push it out loud. You know, and you’re pretty sure he knows you know, et cetera, et cetera. It’s _comfortable._

The way you groan when you open a datapad full of Cybertronian economic reports is not exaggerated at all.

Starscream does glance over at you then, and smirks. He taps the table with one pede where there’s another pile of other datapads. “Don’t look now,” he says, “But that’s just Cybertron. You still have to learn all about the colonies.”

“I thought you _liked_ me,” you say, a little plaintively. “What did I do to torque you off this bad? And also, can’t I just worry about Cybertron? I’m not from the colonies, I can just like. Make deals for the place I actually know.”

“If this is how I treat people I like, aren’t you glad not to be on my bad side? And you need to know about the colonies, because if we make deals on our own behalf without connecting them to any trade partners, it will probably strain relationships to the breaking point with at least several of them.” He pauses, absently tapping the datapad he’s holding. “If you prioritize Caminus, their need for material goods outstrips anyone else’s, even as badly as Cybertron is doing. If we win their gratitude and loyalty by pulling their world back from the edge of destruction, it will make for a solid core alliance that the others will have trouble driving apart.”

“Okay.” You think you can remember that.

“But, additionally, you ought to occasionally at least present the image of disproportionately supporting Carcer’s agenda. Elita is a threat. If she feels slighted, she’s more of a hazard than anyone else is, and if she suspects any underhanded dealings, her reaction will almost definitely be violent. On the other hand, a subtle show of supposed deference, perhaps some implications that my own people are working against my own best interests, and it ought to keep her happy.”

“Wouldn’t it be easier to just— Not do the underhanded dealing thing?”

He laughs. “Oh no. If _that’s_ the case, then it’s proof that Cybertron is weak and she’s free to take as much power as she can grab. Now, Divisiun—”

It just keeps going. Your head is spinning by the time he finishes breaking down the colonies, but things aren’t over yet. That just means it’s time to go back over the colonies and break them down in more detail. At the end of that round, you ask, maybe a little desperately, if this information is in the datapads you’re supposed to read. And yes, it is. So you can just read those, right? Well, first Starscream asks if you’re really planning to read all of them (you did mean to _try_ , at least) and doesn’t even give you a chance to reply before following that up with questions about whether you’re really going retain much information from the datapads (probably not) and whether hearing the information spoken, with space for questions and explanations, will help you retain more (probably yes).

You guess you’re absorbing information, though you’re definitely not holding on to all of it. Your biggest takeaway is that everyone who does this politics slag for fun and manage to just _remember_ all this information off the top of their heads are strange and terrifying people. The colonists are practically aliens? No, no, you’re pretty sure that bots like Starscream and Prowl are much more alien than the colonists are.

And okay. You are genuinely, truly trying to pay attention to what Starscream is saying. And you’re trying to follow as much of it as you can. But you can’t help coming back to the fact that it’s been cycles since you ate anything, and you’re three overloads deep into your day, and that there’s practically _nothing_ that burns energy as fast as overloads do. You’ve still got half a day here to go, and you’re starving.

When you manage to interrupt him to ask if you can go anywhere to get fuel, he hesitates for a moment, but then says, “Actually, we don’t need to go anywhere at all.”

Oh, that’s nice and convenient. You hadn’t seen a fuel tap in here, though you guess there are other rooms. And running a fuel line directly into his quarters seems a little bit like it’s asking for sabotage, but you mean, everybody does have to eat. But Starscream doesn’t get up quite yet, he looks around the room, absently tapping on his leg. And you’re not sure what he’s looking for? You can’t see anything but… room. Definitely no fuel tap.

He gets up and walks across the room to a shelving unit. And then turns to the wall _next_ to the shelving unit and does something you can’t quite see. But you do see it when the wall pops open to reveal a hidden, hollowed-out space. When Starscream turns back to you, he’s carrying two sealed cubes of energon. That’s— huh. You aren’t any stranger to secret compartments, but past Starscream’s arm, it doesn’t look like there’s much of anything else in there. Just the energon he already took out.

He sits back down beside you and hands you one cube, opening the other himself and taking a sip You’re starving, but you hold onto yours for a moment, just watching him. He notices, of course, and gives you a _look._

“I’m sorry,” he says, “were you wanting to exchange cubes? To prove I’m not trying to poison you, I suppose?”

“What? No, why would you do that? I was just—”

“Oh, I can think of plenty of reasons to poison just about anybody.”

That— No, you’re not letting him derail you. “I was just wondering why you had a secret compartment just for holding energon?”

The way he’s looking at you is making you nervous. But you don’t think you did anything wrong? You just asked a question? He’s the one acting weird here, not you.

Finally he says, “Are you telling me that you’ve never done it?”

There’s a weird tension in the air that you don’t know how to read. “Done— What?”

He leans back, looking deliberately away, but you still feel the same pressure that you did when he had his optics on you. He leans back in the couch and gestures vaguely with his cube. _“You_ know. Small things. Safety measures. Putting a little fuel aside when you can so that you have _something_ to keep you going when the bad times hit.”

 _You’re ruling an entire planet_ is what you don’t say. It almost comes out of your mouth, but you’re not so dumb you’re going to say it out loud. And the way Starscream is looking sidelong at you makes you wonder if he heard it anyways. Except, the way he phrased that— Frag, it takes you way back. Further than you wanted to go, to be honest. Back in Nyon, the days where you actually got any fuel at all, but then only drank just enough to get by, and hid the rest in your apartment wherever you could find a spot for it, just— just in case, you know? And it didn’t stop there, even once you were an Autobot, with your stipend and rations and all, sometimes you just couldn’t sleep without knowing that there was _something_ tucked away someplace safe, just in case things went to hell tomorrow.

“Yeah,” you say slowly. “I’d forgotten— It’s been a while, but. Yeah. I used to.”

You don’t think you’re imagining the way you see Starscream relax. _“Used_ to,” he says. “Used to? In the past tense? Really, Rodimus, I thought you were more intelligent than that.”

He makes a face at his cube that you’re not sure you’re supposed to be seeing, drains the whole thing in one long swallow, and then grimaces again, pressing the back of his hand to his mouth. He starts to turn back to you and you look hurriedly down at your cube, yes, totally absorbed in opening this cube up, definitely the only thing you’re paying attention to.

When you’ve got it open and take a quick sip—and you don’t know why he would make faces, it tastes just fine to you—you turn back to him. You don’t know how to read the expression on his face now either, but it feels less… tense? Less dangerous?

Abruptly, he says, “Completely hopeless. I suppose I’ll have to take care of you if you won’t be bothered to take care of yourself.”

You— What? You are lost. You are completely lost. At this point, you can safely say that you have no idea at all what is even happening in this conversation.

At least Starscream doesn’t wait for you to say anything before he disperses his cube and gets up, walking over to a different corner of the room. In quick succession, he opens three separate compartments and pulls energon out of all of them. He deposits those on the table before going to a different wall. A part of the floor. Some hidden drawer in a table. The floor again. Another room. You forget to drink for a klik or two just watching him pull fuel out of every possible corner of his quarters.

Eventually, he finally pauses at the table, frowning down at the box you brought and the pile of energon. And then he looks up at _you_ and snaps, “Yes?”

No, no, you don’t have any questions. You’re just drinking your energon and minding your own business.

First Starscream takes out the last few toys that were still left in the box and puts them on the table with the others. Which, honestly, is making for a pretty ridiculous table. There’s a pile of energon, a pile of interface toys, and a box. With Starscream presiding over the whole scene, of course, glowering at the box like it personally offended him. Primus, you kind of want a picture of this, just for how surreal it feels to look at.

And then he moves. He starts loading your box again. With the energon. The containers are all sorts of shapes and sizes, there are a couple cubes, but also smaller containers, little glass vials with, you think—crystallized energon? And you aren’t going to say anything and torque him off, but you’re almost positive there’s too much energon to fit in the box at all, never even mind all your toys. It was full when you got here, so…

Yeah, he’s got to be able to see that the energon and toys aren’t going to be able to fit, but he’s still loading in the energon, shuffling containers around and packing it all as tight as it will go. It’s pretty impressive to watch, you won’t lie. You never manage to pack your luggage this well. But by the time he’s got your box halfway refilled, it’s. He has to see that the toys are never going to fit too. Right?

You finish your cube and disperse it. Starscream looks less offended (angry? glower-y?) than he did before, but he also doesn’t look like he’s planning to stop with the energon anytime soon, so you clear your through and cautiously venture, “How are we going to fit the toys in with all the other stuff?”

He just looks at you blankly for a moment. “We aren’t, of course.”

You— what? The two of you are left just awkwardly, silently staring at each other for a few painfully long nanokliks.

Then Starscream looks away, down at the box and the energon he’s loading into it. His voice sounds carefully casual when he says, “I had assumed that you weren’t planning to ferry this box back and forth with every single visit you make. I had _assumed_ that you were planning to leave all these—” He waves his hand vaguely. “— _accessories_ behind. For the sake of convenience.”

Okay, to be perfectly honest, you had not bothered to think that far ahead. And you think that Starscream reads that right off your face when he glances up at you and you see the corners of his mouth turn up into a faint smile.

“I guess that makes sense,” you say. “But the energon—?”

“Is for you to take back to your ship and store wherever you so desire,” he finishes smoothly. “Your quarters would be a logical place, the bridge, perhaps, I have no idea what would suit you and wouldn’t dream of telling you what to do.”

Wouldn’t dream of it, huh? Which is why he’s loading up a box full of fuel for you to take home. You’re still feeling a little dazed (very dazed) with how quickly Starscream seems to change direction, but you can at least connect the dots between _I_ _suppose I_ _’_ _ll have to take care of you_ and what he’s doing right now.

“Thank you,” you say. Because what else are you supposed to do?

Starscream looks up sharply at you, and because you’re watching for it, you see a flash of surprise across his face and then another flash of suspicion before his expression smooths back out into vague, directionless disinterest. “My goodness, if you’re so grateful for a gift of old, leftover fuel, your ship must be in more dire straits than I thought.” There’s a little pause, just a tiny bit too long, and then he adds, “You’re welcome.”

You don’t really say anything after that, because you have _no_ idea how to respond to that conversation. But at least you think Starscream is in the same boat as you. He finishes packing the last of the energon—and somehow he managed to make it all fit, which genuinely amazes you—latches the box, and picks it up to deposit right next to the door. He walks back and sits beside you again, and you aren’t sure you imagine if there’s half a moment of hesitation before he swings his legs back up over your lap again and lounges back against the arm of the couch.

“Trade agreements,” he says, and you can see him smile as you groan. “No more lecturing you. I think I'm as tired of that as you are.”

You shoot a hopeful glance at the table, which is still covered with interface toys. If he’s done teaching you trade stuff, then maybe—?

Starscream continues, “Instead, you’re going to ask questions for me to answer.” He does at least glance over at the pile of interface toys too. He doesn’t make a move towards any of them, but he does add, “The sooner we cover the necessary ground, the sooner we can get back to the entertainment. I think I can safely assume you’d rather take care of the work before the fun, rather than trying to focus on it afterwards.”

That’s one way to put it, you guess. Though as a counterpoint, what if instead you put off the work until the last possible moment and rushed to finish it as quickly as you could? No, you’re more responsible than that. Slightly more responsible than that. You can at least manage a little while of asking Starscream questions about the things that confused you, and that’s better than dealing with Megs or Mags being disapproving at you while they explain things back on the Lost Light.

Most of your questions feel pretty stupid, but hey, Starscream still answers them. Why will Caminus be so extremely loyal if you help them out? Oh, because of religious stuff. That makes sense. And is vaguely alarming considering the you and the Matrix have— you know. Makes you glad to be safely off-planet is all. Being a captain is one thing, being a religious figurehead is something else. You get a strange and confusing description of Devisiun’s social dynamics, which you’re still not sure you totally get, but Starscream tells you that it’s fine, most non-Devisen bots don’t either.

There’s a political breakdown of Eukaris and the historical context for why they’ll be extra touchy if it looks like they’re being mistreated by non-animal-alt bots. Some explanations of what the miscellaneous mechs on Earth are up to. But you really think Starscream doesn’t want to linger over that any more than you do. It sounds like a mess and also terrible in like twenty separate, distinct ways. You’re glad it’s happening because it means Optimus is off-planet, you guess, but that’s the best you’ve got. And you’re not going to lie, you think that’s Starscream’s favorite part of the situation too.

By the time Starscream gets through an explanation of which imported resources Cybertron needs to boost local resource _production,_ you’re starting to flag. You’ve been going for a while. When you check your chronometer, you’re honestly surprised at how long you’ve been at this. You should get Starscream to corner you into doing your job more often, if he’s this good at it.

But yeah, no matter how good he is, there’s a certain point where you just can’t anymore. And you’re trying to focus, really, but when you’re trying to think of your next question, what comes out of your mouth is, “How are all my friends doing?”

And you clamp your mouth tight shut. Frag. You could not have possibly anticipated how stupid those words would sound out loud, never even mind how they’d sound in the context of a conversation like _this._

You’re still trying (and failing) to come up with a way to recover, and Starscream is watching you, drumming his fingers on his leg. Finally he says, “I’ve never tried to pin down the entire network of Autobot social connections, never even mind figuring out how those dynamics would evolve in a city just crawling with Autobots—”

You wave him off. “No, no, I— Sorry, I didn’t expect you to have an actual answer.” Your plating is heating up with embarrassment. “I wasn’t thinking. I don’t expect you to know that. It was a dumb question.” This is the most awkward conversational dead end. You’ve found it, good job. So as a last-ditch effort, you make a weak attempt at a joke. “I think if you asked the Autobots, they’d complain that the city is crawling with Decepticons.”

He snorts. “Yes. But just think of how much civil unity we could foster if there was a joint Autobot-Decepticon committee to complain about the numbers of neutrals. And then _all_ of them can band together to complain about the colonists.”

Starscream is smiling, in a wry kind of way, but also he kind of just looks… exhausted. Until he notices you watching him, of course, and then it’s back to vague amusement and careful ease. That’s— interesting. You don’t know what to do with it, but it’s interesting. You aren’t the best at that kind of observation either, so it means either he’s worn out enough that he isn’t able to hold onto the act, or that he’s being more— open. With you. Yeah, wow, you _really_ don’t know what to do with either of those options, and you’re going to deal with that by not thinking about either of them. Not until you can do something. You’re not going to poke this until it explodes when you don’t have any clue how to handle it.

Before you can start trying to figure out what’s even safe to say, Starscream sighs and turns to the table. The table full of interface toys. _Oh._

He gives you a sideways look that has enough heat to it that it makes you shiver. “Oh dear,” he murmurs. “It looks like I’m _forced_ to find some way to bribe you back into doing your work again.”

Yes, _yes._ You make no guarantees about your ability to do any more work today, but you are very enthusiastically in favor of him trying to bribe you as hard as he can. You’re at least two thirds of the way through your visit, and you haven’t used even _one_ of your toys yet. That’s no good. You’d better use as many as possible to make up for lost time.

And ohhh, Primus, _hell_ _yes,_ you think Starscream might be thinking the same way as you. As you watch, he plucks out a pair of cuffs, a false spike, a little vibrator attached to a clip (then a second, then a _third_ ), a whole armful of toys where he makes his selections so fast you don’t even catch everything he chooses. But then he looks up at you, sighs, and reluctantly drops the armful onto the couch.

Before you can protest, he regretfully says, “No, too much.”

“Too much? Sounds fake, I’ve never heard of it.” Not true, definitely not true, but you don’t know when you’ll be able to visit again (if he even wants you again—and he’s talking about keeping the toys for your next trip, but that’s still an _if_ ), and you want to make the most of the time you have left.

“No,” Starscream repeats. “If I used all of these on you at once, nobody is going to appreciate any one piece of it.”

“I’ll still appreciate the whole?”

He looks at you for a moment and laughs once, quick and light, before he turns to examine his smaller pile of selections. “I’m sure you would. But you’ll appreciate _this_ whole as well.”

No, no, you want to be overwhelmed and pushed to the absolute limit of what your frame can handle, and he has _no_ idea how many toys you could totally (probably) take while still enjoying yourself. But he turns to you holding a pair of cuffs, and the words die in your throat.

“Hands behind your back,” he says.

You comply with speed that might be embarrassing, except ‘embarrassing’ is quickly becoming irrelevant in the face of how much fun you’re having. You twist in place as much as you can to offer him your crossed wrists, and try not to grin as he snaps the cuffs in place. Helpfully you tell him, “That pair is electrified. If I pull too hard—”

“Is that so,” he purrs. “Goodness. We’d best be certain I won’t do anything that drives you to forget that. Don’t you think?”

“It would take a lot,” you tell him. You’ve already forgotten you were trying not to grin, and your fans start to ratchet up in anticipation.

“Good,” he says. And bends forward to pluck a datapad off the table. “Then let’s begin reviewing this contract.

What, _no—_ You want to argue, you are _so_ ready to argue, but he’s already settling back in against your side and opening the document on the datapad. He leans back even further into you so he can tip his head back and see your face. “Is there a problem? I assumed you’d want to at least read the document once before signing it.”

“Yes, but—” You look hopefully over at the toys. Up to Starscream’s face. Back to the toys. Yes? Maybe?

Starscream just silently watches you for a few nanokliks, but from the way he’s starting to smile, you think he just wants to make you squirm. Finally, he sighs theatrically, and says, “I suppose you _have_ been working very hard.”

Aw yes, _victory._ You nudge Starscream with your shoulder, still minding the cuffs. “You’re the _best._ You should keep doing that. Imagine how much work you could bribe me into doing if you used _all_ those toys on me.”

“Mm.” He’s sorting through the pile, but gives you a sideways look. “Though I’m sure you agree that it would be terrible if I spent so long bribing you that we ran out time to do any actual work.” There’s no heat to it. He’s still got that faint little half-smile that’s getting to be so familiar.

And you keep leaning into his side even harder, hard enough that he starts to tip over and has to move one pede to brace himself. But he doesn’t tell you to stop. “But just think of how productive we could be if you pushed it to the limit! You don’t have to worry about me not getting my work done, I’ve got no clue where you could have gotten that idea. And also we should run… tests? Operational tests. Just to be sure all of these work.”

He ignores that. After a moment you add, “Also, you should totally kiss me.”

And Starscream _is_ listening to you, at least a little, because he turns and kisses you once, lightly, before going back to the toys. Something you didn’t realize was tensing up inside you relaxes.

As he sorts through the pile, he says, “And I suppose that will satisfy you for the rest of the day, then? All your needs have been met?”

“Hey, hey, you know what, these cuffs match a pair I have for ankles. I’m pretty positive I packed them. At least ninety percent positive. You should get those out too. And then maybe one of those vibrating false spikes, one of the really big ones—”

He ignores that too, but you don’t really mind much. Or blame him. You’re being difficult now. You mean, you’re having fun, but you’re having fun being difficult.

But you got distracted, and when Starscream finally straightens up, he’s holding a toy hidden in his hand, and you _completely_ missed what it was that he grabbed. You’re trying to get a look, but he’s— He’s definitely hiding it from you, is what he’s doing. He’s smirking at you more openly, but he’s not letting you get a decent look, and the toy is small enough that his hand pretty well covers it.

“Open your panel,” he says.

You obey without even taking a nanoklik to think about it. Whatever’s about to happen, having your panel open sounds like the _best_ plan.

And then he holds up the toy. A sheath plug. A _vibrating_ sheath plug. You can practically feel the rush of heat to your array and squirm in place. It’s hard to look away from the toy, but from the corner of your optic, you can see Starscream’s smile getting even more smug.

“Your spike,” he says, and the words are barely out of his mouth before you let your spike panel open, and your spike begins to pressurize.

This time he does stop it from pressurizing. It’s less of a shock than it was the last time he did it, because you know it’s coming. But it’s a different kind of intense _watching_ him while he’s doing it, and knowing that he’s watching how you react while his hands are on your array. He holds your spike where it is for a long moment, and you feel the pressure of _needing,_ but Starscream doesn’t move his hand at all, following you as your hips shift and twitch forward against him. You’re trying not to pull on the cuffs, but if he keeps teasing you this way, you’re going to have a hard time. You weren’t all that spun up at first, but the longer he keeps his hand on you, his fingers on your spike, brushing against the edges of your sheath—

Starscream doesn’t drag it out too long. You bite back a moan as his fingers press harder against your spike, bearing down against your transfluid channel, and you jerk in place hard enough that the cuffs shock you, just for a moment. You’re still getting your bearings again, forcing your shoulders to relax, when you can feel both his hands on you, pressing the plug into your sheath, down against your spike. You’re trying to sort out your words enough to tell him where the magnetic controls are, but fortunately, he’s more on top of things right now than you are, and you feel the plug snap into place, pressed tight against your sheath.

You’re ventilating hard. You’ve got some of your control back, now that Starscream doesn’t have his hands actually on you, actually touching your spike. It’s still intense, but you can focus again. Starscream is watching you. You think you’re getting better at reading his expressions, because this particular smile reads to you mostly like _amusement,_ and you can’t help laughing once, feeling the plug moving in you and seeing the way he’s watching you. What next? You want more, you feel like you could take _anything_ right now, every single toy he can possibly fit in your frame, and you want him to use them _all._

Starscream picks up the datapad again. “Now, this contract—”

You groan and lean back into his side, burying your face in his shoulder.

He pats your arm, at least playing sympathetic, and says, “There, there.”

“Can’t we—” You can’t help working your hips down against the couch, trying to get something _more_ from the sheath plug, even though you already know it’s not going to do anything. “What if you overload me first, and _then_ we do the contract?”

“Why, Rodimus. Just think, if we don’t get this work finished during this visit, we may never be able to justify a rendezvous like this again. Is that what you really want?”

All you can do is laugh. It’s a little helpless, a little excited, and you’re not sure you can sort out your words well enough to argue with him about this, not with the plug pressing relentlessly about your spike. And then Starscream reaches down between your legs, his fingers gliding over your plating as they move towards the plug. And then it starts to vibrate.

It surprises an embarrassingly loud noise out of you, and you tug on the cuffs again, just enough for a tiny little shock. Relax, _relax._ You force yourself to relax again, holding as still as you can manage, dragging yourself back under control. The vibrator is on the lowest setting, you think. You can handle this. Honestly, now that you’re past that first shock, you mostly want him to give you _more._

You look up at Starscream hopefully. He smiles and says, “Once we finish this contract, then we can see about letting you overload.”

 _Primus._ You’re grinning so wide it makes your cheeks ache, but also, this is going to be _agony._ You’re so excited.

Starscream picks up the datapad again, cool as anything, and holds it up in front of you. Past his hands, you can see the plug where it fills your sheath. It’s a little distracting.

He says, “Now, this shouldn’t have any surprises given what we’ve already discussed, but we need to go over the whole document before you sign it and bring it back to your ship for the other officers to approve.”

“No surprises?” Your voice sounds perhaps a tiny bit strange. “Then why are we going over this?”

The look he gives you is equal parts flat and amused. “Why are we going over the terms of a contract before you sign it?”

Okay, yes, _but_ — A little helplessly, you ask, “What if I just said I trusted you?”

It surprises a laugh out of him. “I certainly hope you don’t say that. And to think, here I was, beginning to respect your judgment.”

He’s merciless. He’s— _nice_ about it, but relentless. There’s no escape. He starts going through the contract with you, line by line. Or maybe not _that_ detailed, but he’s breaking down an awful lot of information. You’re not sure exactly what information, because you are very very _slightly_ distracted by the plug still vibrating against your spike.

It’s not even like you’re close to an overload. After three overloads one right after the other, it’s harder to build that heat and tension back up. You’re just left with an overwhelming amount of sensation that’s so _much_ right now that it’s almost pain. Starscream has spent most of the day leaning on you, but you’re definitely the one leaning on him right now. You’re ventilating hard, but it doesn’t feel like it’s helping with the heat at all.

For a klik, it looks like the contract is almost over, and you can feel the mounting relief— Except that no, it’s not over. The first _section_ is over. You press your frame harder into Starscream’s and groan. He just keeps going.

Okay, yeah, you’re enjoying the game of this and all, but this is starting to— You’re not sure. You just don’t know how much longer you can deal with this. Not when you can already tell it isn’t going to be enough to finish you.

You don’t really mean to say, “Starscream, _please—”_ But it still bursts out of you, and your plating burns that little bit extra with embarrassment.

He hesitates, though, and stops reading from the datapad. You can feel him shift and look down at you, but even the pressure of that look is starting to feel like too much, and you push your face into his neck, your mouth pressed tightly closed.

“What is it?”

There’s a note of something in his voice that you can’t quite read. Caution? Wariness? You can’t tell, you can’t _focus_ like this, but whatever it is, it’s making you tense up in not-great ways, and it’s getting even harder to deal with the unrelenting vibration of the toy in your sheath. You burrow your face further into his neck instead. What are you even asking for? You don’t know.

He says, “Rodimus?”

The tension isn’t just in his voice, you can feel it in his whole frame too. It’s almost like— He’s starting to pull back and away. He hasn’t done it (yet), but he’s _doing_ it, you can feel it in the way he’s so stiff against you and isn’t reacting as you lean into him.

You don’t even know what you want. You need to use words or _something_ , at least to say that you don’t know what you’re asking for. But all you can manage is, _“Please.”_

“Please _what,”_ he snaps. And now you’re hearing anger. You shut off your optics, but you can’t bring yourself to pull back from where you’re pressed against him. “I can’t read your mind, and I have no way to tell what you want from me.” There’s more than just anger. It’s not just— Not _just_ anger, but you don’t—

“I need—” And there you go, frag. You’ve lost it again. Your shoulders are starting to shake with tension from keeping your wrists crossed behind your back. You feel so horribly exposed like this, and it’s so _stupid_ , it’s just your arms, it’s not even something important. It’s still kind of the worst sensation ever, even while you know it’s dumb to be feeling this way.

“Yes? Were you planning to finish that thought?” It’s not— It’s not fear. It’s not panic or worry. But it’s somewhere in that region. You can hear the tension mounting in his voice as it raises. “Because if I didn’t know any better, I’d almost think you were asking for comfort—”

“ _Yes.”_ It bursts out of your mouth before you can even stop to think about it. But it’s right. Now that he’s said it, you know that it’s _right._

He’s frozen where he is, so unmoving that you’d almost believe you aren’t pressed into a person at all, but you can’t pull back. The vibration of the toy isn’t really pleasure at all anymore, it’s closer to just pain. You guess maybe— You thought the two of you were doing well together. Really well. You guess it’s not the only time you’ve misread him this badly today.

Finally, he speaks up, his voice stiff and haughty. “Remarkable, it almost sounds as though you think this is something serious, something of _substance—”_

“It’s _not?”_ You cut yourself off there, but it’s already said. Starscream doesn’t say a word, doesn’t move, nothing. You should— Okay, you need to shut up. You really need to stop talking now. The vibration of the toy drops into the background, your shoulders stop being important, and you drag yourself back under control in one desperate effort. You need to stop talking. You need to stop humiliating yourself. You need to _go._

You sit up, finally, though it feels like the body you’re moving doesn’t actually belong to you. The shift of the plug inside you feels like it’s happening to someone else. Maybe you ought to just snap the cuffs, because the shock of breaking them wouldn’t even be happening to _your_ frame. You know you’re carrying yourself too stiffly, but you don’t know how to stop it. It hardly even feels like you’re seeing the room anymore, but you keep your optics fixed on the floor.

How are you going to do this? You need to get back to the space bridge. But you can’t walk through the halls like this. You’re filthy. And the room is covered with interface toys. You have a toy _in_ you. You were supposed to bring documents back to the ship. The sheer amount of steps between where you are now and getting home is so overwhelming that you don’t even know how to process it, and you just end up sitting where you are, totally frozen.

Starscream makes the first move. He reaches down between your legs and switches off the vibration, and you shudder at the sudden _lack_ , after so long trying to deal with its presence. He takes your head in his hands and turns you to look at him. You could probably resist, but you don’t. You risk one quick glance up at him before you turn your optics away again, and he’s studying your face, but seems to be avoiding your optics as well.

His voice is painfully unreadable when he asks, “What is this, to you?”

You don’t know how to answer that. You’re trapped, _cornered,_ you already showed your entire hand, thanks, can he maybe _not_ ask you to keep on humiliating yourself? But he’s already shaking his head.

“No,” he corrects. _“When_ did it become this, to you?”

It’s still an awful question to think about answering, but you can at least force yourself to respond this time. “We’ve been messaging each other for months.” Your voice sounds like it’s not coming from your mouth. “It was— I _said_ romance. I’ve been saying romance.” No nope, you press your lips tight shut, you need to stop now. But you did say romance. You _did._ From the start, you’re almost sure. You wouldn’t have said that if you didn’t think— Before you can stop yourself, you add, “Did you think that was only a _joke?”_

There’s silence. He’s still holding your face, keeping it turned towards him, but neither of you is looking the other in the optics.

And there’s the question you haven’t asked. It’s twisting in your fuel tanks, just wondering about it. It’s eating at you and only getting worse by the nanoklik, worse and worse the longer the silence stretches out. Finally, you burst out, “To you, was this _only—?_ ”

Nope, that’s all you can manage. You switch your optics off entirely. No more talking, you’re only making things worse.

The way he’s not talking is getting more and more awful as time passes. Great job, this is awesome, you really screwed this up good. You just want to snap the cuffs and make a break for it, and begin a lifetime of trying to forget that this ever happened.

“I—” Starscream begins, and stops. There’s quiet again, for long enough that you start to wonder if he’s ever planning to talk to you again at all. You don’t know what your face is doing. You’re certain you’re showing too much, but you don’t know how to _stop._

Starscream begins again, slowly and cautiously. “I would not have expected someone with four million years of historical bitter enmity between us to even entertain the possibility of a— of something serious. So I never considered it.”

Ah. You can feel your mouth twist. That’s it, then. You’re just a gullible, naive, too-trusting _idiot._ It knocks all the words out of you. You couldn’t even begin replying to that, not even if you tried.

But Starscream continues. “I had not considered the possibility.” You can’t tell if you’re imagining the undercurrent of unease in his voice. “I can’t say I’m necessarily… opposed. But I hadn’t ever thought about it.” And now, if anything, he sounds almost apologetic. “This is a little— sudden.”

You force your optics online. You’re still not looking at his face, but they’re online. And then you force your voice to work again. It sounds stupidly quiet when you say, “So this is just about getting off?”

He hesitates for half a nanoklik and slowly takes his hands from your faces. “It would never have even been about getting off if I wasn’t— If I didn’t—” You steal a glance up at him, and he looks frustrated, but you don’t think that’s directed at you. You can see his jaw clench and he tries again. “I wouldn’t have bothered to answer your messages if I hadn’t enjoyed our last encounter. And I wouldn’t have kept replying if I didn’t enjoy those conversations.”

You— Huh. You feel a little less stupid, at least. And now that your head is clearing a little, you’re kind of amazed you managed to wrangle this amount of open honesty from _Starscream,_ of all mechs. It’s almost the same sort of impact as hearing about, about him and Megatron for the first time, except that was horrifying and awful and now you’re just kind of fascinated, wondering what else he’s going to say. And it’s helping overwrite the suffocating amount of humiliation you’ve been feeling.

But he seems to have stopped for the moment. So take a slow ventilation to steady yourself, look him full in the face, and ask, “Is it… still just about getting off?”

The funniest thing is that he looks pretty much as off-balance and cornered as you. Trapped. Oh wow. That’s—

After a moment, you add, “You don’t have to answer.”

Slowly, he says, “I would not be… _opposed…_ to exploring whether. Exploring whether a more permanent arrangement would suit us both. If perhaps we ought to—”

Oh man, you’re simultaneously fascinated with watching him struggle so hard to say something so basic, but also... kind of guilty that you’re letting him struggle so hard to say something so basic. His expression is the bestworst thing you’ve seen all day. And also it’s taking him a while and you’re maybe not the best at delayed gratification, and you interrupt him with, “Are we courting?”

He sighs, and the way he smiles might be a bit sarcastic, but it’s _also_ a bit fond, and the novelty of seeing that kind of emotion on Starscream’s face is fascinating in its own right. And his tone isn’t sarcastic at all when he says, “Yes, then, if you want to be blunt about it. I suppose we’re courting.”

You grin so wide it hurts and start laughing, a little helplessly. Because how else are you supposed to react?

Starscream’s smile slips into something more like that smirk you’re getting so used to. He reaches out to touch your chest, a little cautious, a little hesitant, like he isn’t sure if suddenly that’s not allowed. He asks, all mock-stern, “Is that so funny, then?”

You can’t stop laughing long enough to give him an answer, but you lean in towards him and gently bump your helm up against his. He leans into that too, you can feel him doing it. So of course then you have to do your very, very best to stop laughing long enough that you can kiss him without making a total mess of it. And you do (kind of— it’s still a pretty disastrous attempt at a kiss).

Except then get distracted with the kiss, you lean into the him a little more, and forget the cuffs. You tug on them hard enough that the corresponding shock makes you jump and curse. You cross your wrists again, doing your best to get comfortable. Your shoulders are aching, and your arms are starting to get a bit shaky. You’ve been in these things for a while. You can deal, but it’s not easy to find what position feels least uncomfortable.

Starscream notices, of course. Maybe you aren’t reading him as well as you’d thought, because you’re sure not certain what the expression on his face now means. And— haha, wow, you’re not sure what to do next. Things got weird there for a klik (weird? uncomfortable? upsetting?), and the two of you have barely started finding your footing together again. Plus sure, it was upsetting, but you’re fine now. Right? And you suddenly remember that you’re getting towards the end of your day here, and it’ll probably be a while before you see him in person again.

Aw, frag it, you’re just going to go for broke. You grin at him and say, “I think those ankle cuffs are still in that pile somewhere.”

He laughs, though you think there’s a little relief in it. He stands for a moment, but you don’t even have time to wonder what he’s doing before he resettles himself kneeling across your lap, straddling your thighs, his hands resting on your chest. “I’ve been neglecting you,” he purrs.

Oh yes. The two of you are definitely back on track again. That’s— good. Reassuring? It’s _good_ for sure, you at least know that much. “Hey, I was saying you could use more toys right from the start.”

“So you did.” His hands run down over your plating as he looks you over. You shiver a little, at the feeling of his hands on you and the heat of his frame against your legs. And maybe a little because it’s a relief to know you didn’t ruin the entire day just then.

Though Starscream isn’t making any moves towards the other toys. He’s watching your face and already looking incredibly smug about, about whatever he’s planning. You don’t know what that is yet, but you’re _ready_ for it. One of his hands slides down between your legs and traces the edges of the sheath plug for a moment. And then while you’re still adjusting to that touch, he turns on the vibration.

You jump, but manage to keep your arms in place. Your fans kick on so fast they ache, and you’re left wordless for a moment at the intensity of it. It was easier to ignore the plug when it wasn’t vibrating, but your array never actually got the chance to recover from before, and is still sensitive enough that the lowest level of vibration is overwhelming. You pull yourself under control, with some effort. You can take this.

And then Starscream turns the vibration up.

He keeps escalating that through every single setting the toy has, until you’re almost certain he’s maxed it out. You _hope_ he’s maxed it out. This is already just so— just so _much,_ you can’t imagine what _more_ would even feel like. Though you’ve already thought that a couple times and been proven wrong. But this time, he takes his hand from the toy and reaches up to tilt your head back, and he kisses you deep and hard.

Your shoulders are straining with the effort of keeping your arms where they are. You lean into the kiss as much as you can, but your arms slip just a little too far, and when the cuffs shock you, you make a startled, muffled noise against Starscream’s mouth. You can feel him smile for a moment before he tilts your head back even further and kisses you just that little bit harder.

It leaves you reeling when he finally pulls back and breaks the kiss. You look up at him, more than a little dazed. He’s smiling down at you again, and yeah, he probably deserves to look that smug about this. That’s fair.

He bends in again, and you’re already opening your mouth for him, ready for the kiss, but he only kisses you once, lightly, before he reaches behind you. You’re confused, and when you feel his hands on your arms, your first thought is that he’s going to pull your arms so that the cuffs shock you more, and _that’s_ a burst of fear and anticipation that goes straight to your array. But that’s not what he’s doing. You don’t know what he’s doing, but he’s messing with the cuffs, and you wish you could see—

Well, you don’t have to wonder long. You hear a click and the cuffs fall away from your wrists, and Starscream leans back again, drawing your hands with him.

“Aw, no—” He didn’t have to do that. You mean, they were shocking you, but that’s kind of what they were there for. You didn’t _mind_ the shocking.

Starscream shakes his head. “Oh no. I’m done with those for now. I have other… _uses_ for those hands.”

Oh. _Oh._ Okay, yes, you’re fine with these developments. Starscream pushes one of your hands down between his legs, and— Technically yes, you’re probably supposed to let him move your other hand too, but instead you pull it out of his grip and reach up to wrap your arm around his neck and pull him down against you for another kiss. From the pleased noise he makes into your mouth, you don’t think he minds very much.

And in the meantime, you only have to palm his panel once before it opens under your fingers. This time you hold _his_ spike back for a moment as it tries to pressurize, and you can’t help grinning at the sharp gasp that gets from him. You don’t get to smile for too long, because he takes your face in both hands again and kisses you so hard that your whole world shrinks to Starscream against you and the toy vibrating against your spike.

You do your best to reciprocate, taking Starscream’s spike in hand and giving it a rough pull. The angle isn’t the best, but Starscream makes another noise that sounds like encouragement and presses forward against you even harder, his chest jammed up against yours. So you’re going to guess he likes it. You can feel the grooves of the engraving on his spike under your fingers, but you’re too— You have better things to do right now than wonder about what it says.

And as amazing as this all feels, the build for you is still painfully slow. All the other overloads don’t help. But also, the sheath plug has been in you for so long that you can’t quite tell if your array is going numb, or if you’re so oversensitive the feeling of it is echoing through your entire frame. It feels good, it feels _wonderful,_ but you can already tell it isn’t going to be enough and you don’t know what to ask for.

Starscream drops one hand from your face and trails it down over your neck, then your chest, tweaking cables and pressing against the seams between plates as he goes. He goes over your hip and, and you know he’s heading for your array, that’s plenty obvious. But the closer he gets, the harder it is to tell _where_ he’s touching. You think you really are starting to go numb from how intense the vibration is.

But you certainly notice it when he presses a finger against your node. You make a shocked, desperate noise against him, breaking the kiss for a moment to pant for extra air, your fans straining as hard as they’ll go. Except you pull him back into the kiss again, because you can’t _not_ be kissing him right now.

Your hand on his spike is unsteady, but his hips push forward into your grip with every stroke anyways. When he rubs a slow circle into your node, you arch off the couch for a moment, and he makes a noise against you that is almost definitely a muffled laugh. He presses his finger against your node again, a little harder, then repeats it, until he’s rubbing your node in tight, fast little circles.

It’s enough. You feel like you’re having to fight your way to the overload, but it’s enough. You break the kiss again, gasping for air, your frame so overheated you halfway wonder if you’ve accidentally caught fire. You grit your teeth, and the pleasure is practically pain, but you can feel the overload there, just out of reach— As it hits, all you manage is, _“_ _Starscream—”_

And then all you can do is shake your way through it. Your optics drop offline and your vocalizer is locked tight shut, and it feels like your whole body is shuddering and you’re powerless to stop it. You can still feel Starscream’s finger on your node, not letting up at all. And you can feel his other hand tilt your head back again, and you feel him claim your mouth with another hungry, demanding kiss.

It feels like the overload lasts for an eternity before it finally starts to fade and his touch becomes too much. But before you can even ask him to stop, he takes his finger from you, turns off the toy’s vibration, and somehow, one-handed, manages to de-magnetize the thing and carefully slide it from your sheath. The way you gasp that time is mostly relief.

And you distantly realize that your hand is still moving on his spike. And that he hasn’t overloaded yet. You feel so unsteady and wobbly you aren’t sure you could actually stand up right now, but you’re not going to let him get away from this day without at least one more overload. You do your best to move more smoothly, more quickly, but it feels like your limbs are barely even under your control. Starscream is watching you again, braced against your shoulder, with that fond look even more obvious than it was before. And then he reaches down between his legs to wrap his hand around yours.

It takes only a few strokes before he comes with a quiet moan, and he curls forward against your shoulder as you feel the heat of his transfluid hit your plating. His hand drops away to rest on your waist, but you leave your hand on him until his spike depressurizes out of your grasp.

And… you’re not quite sure what happens now. Plus you’re worn out enough that your processor-to-mouth filter is _completely_ broken, and the first (highly romantic) thing you say is, “We don’t have to review that contract now, do we?”

He just laughs. You don’t really want to move or— or anything really, not right now. But he pushes back away from you and flops down on the couch up against your side, still halfway into your lap. And he’s still laughing weakly.

But— Okay, like this, you can really get a good look at yourself. And him. And the couch. And the sheath plug. And, eugh, the floor _—_ _Primus._ All you can say is, “We’re _filthy.”_

Starscream doesn’t even move. “That’s why. _You_ know.” He waves one hand around in a way that doesn’t manage to be very descriptive at all. “Why we’re not doing the contract. Check your chronometer.”

You do, and wince. You didn’t realize it was _that_ late. You have some wiggle room, but you really ought to make it back to the ship at a reasonable time. But he just said you don’t have to go over the contract. Very privately, to yourself, you think _I win._

When you look down at Starscream, his optics are dimmed, but he goes on talking. “My hope is that by the time either of us is willing to move again, we’ll be able to clean up this mess. Some of this mess. Before anyone else can see it.”

You must be more exhausted than you thought, because instead of any kind of responsible reply, all you do is snicker and say, “Negotiation tactics.”

And Starscream must be more exhausted than you thought too, because he actually laughs at that awful joke. His optics are offline completely now, and he seems to be plenty happy to stay right where he is, keeping you half-pinned to the couch. You mean, not that you mind either. And you realize that the way he slid down, one of your arms is pinned, wrapped behind his back. Which is another thing you don’t really mind.

More than anything, you want to nap. Right here, like this. No, wait, frag, you can be a tiny bit responsible before you give up everything for the day. “What about the contract?”

Starscream sounds halfway into recharge. “Take it back to the ship and sign it. Make the others read it. ‘s only the things we already discussed.”

“I thought you told me not to believe it when you say things like that.”

“Mm.” For a moment you think he’s already asleep, but then he turns his face a little further into your chest. “I suppose you’ll just have to trust me.”

**Author's Note:**

> [Tumblr](http://spockandawe.tumblr.com/post/167934105081/one-track-mind-one-track-heart-spockandawe)


End file.
